Soothe Me
by igirisexual
Summary: Alfred and Ivan were in love. They were the kind of boyfriends who would brawl and fight for fun, shaking off bruises and broken limbs as if they were nothing. One time, Alfred entices Ivan to a fight that will not be disturbed. This brawl only ends when Ivan is panicking, and Alfred is upon the ground, unconscious. RusAme. Oneshot.


Alfred was a ticking time bomb. He would show up day after day with bruises and cuts, but wouldn't answer any of his big brother's questions. '_Why do you have those?_' and '_Alfred, there's something you're not telling me._' were common phrases from Arthur's mouth. He would head upstairs after arriving home from school, and play his music loudly behind a locked door. Sometimes, his own singing could be heard over the blaring bass and aggressively loud guitar. Other times, there was nothing to be heard except the music itself.

Matthew hated having a room beside his brother. He had begged Arthur to go about getting him soundproof walls, but Arthur would always go and shout at Alfred to turn his music down instead. As much as he tried, the Brit was no use against a locked door, being quite weak in comparison to his little brother and his hatred of letting people in.

Alfred was relatively quiet at school. He almost always had an earphone in, and had his music pounding away at his eardrums whenever he could. Teachers eventually gave up on trying to get him to take them out, as listening to music improved his morale and his work effort tenfold. He was quite popular, being a common topic of conversation around most of the female (and some of the male) populace.

He had a boyfriend, who everyone knew as Ivan Braginsky. To most, he was referred to as a monster or terrible beast. In reality, he wasn't nearly that bad, and he definitely was not abusive. Yes, true, he had an intense glare, and he looked as if he could crush you with both hands behind his back. He honestly meant well, and was a sweetheart with a shy soul, but simply gave off the wrong air, and found it near impossible to make friends.

To anyone not in the know, it would seem like Alfred and Ivan absolutely despised each other. They were constantly found exchanging angry looks, and were often at each other's throats in more ways than one. Between classes, they would brawl in the corridors, always attracting a crowd. Some students even took to betting on the winner. There never really was a victor, though, as the fight would be broken up before any real damage could be done. Both Ivan and Alfred were thankful for that, because as much as they loved to fight and compete, they didn't wish to really hurt each other.

The bruises were from Ivan. The arguments they got into on a regular basis were nearly always what lead to the fights. Things like '_I'm stronger than you_' and '_I bet if I was old enough to drink, I would be such a heavyweight_' were some of the most prominent fight-starters. They would punch and kick and wrestle with great vigor, refusing to let up until their strength had been proven, or a teacher came over to break it up and give them both detention.

It was a Thursday. Tensions were always high by Thursday, with all the stress of the week building up, and there was still that damned Friday that they had to get through before they could relax.

"You know, I think dogs are better than cats." Alfred said as he walked through the corridor, Ivan beside him, and their fingers laced.

"Me too." Ivan agreed. Now, this was odd. Ivan and Alfred almost never shared opinions, and really, Alfred really had no idea what to do.

"Are you sure? You look like you're all for cats." Alfred huffed, bowing a bit as he walked so that he could look at more of Ivan's face than just the side. He didn't seem disgruntled at all. Alfred at least felt uncomfortable that they agreed. "Nananananana, cat man."

"No, I'm a dog person, although I cannot have dogs," Ivan mused, giving Alfred's hand the vaguest of squeezes. "My last dog suffocated in my arms." He frowned, and lifted his free hand to ruffle his mop of curly blond hair. "Ah.. That wasn't nice at all."

"Dang," Alfred huffed. "Um.. You smell."

"I do have a nose," Ivan observed.

"You have dumb hair!"

"You said it was cute last week. I think it's cute."

"God fucking damn it," Alfred scoffed, fixing his glasses and swinging Ivan's arm childishly. "We can't just fight without a reason? You're like the sturdiest dude I've ever met. I'm gonna beat you one of these days, y'know."

"We can brawl, but I warn you that you will lose, much like you do every day," Ivan rolled his eyes, and let Alfred lead him through the halls. They headed out of the actual school building, and to the yard, where no teachers would think to go to intervene. The last time they had fought out here, Alfred had ended up with a broken arm, and Ivan had two black eyes.

"I won that one time," Alfred retorted, letting go of Ivan's hand and jumping back, raising his fists in front of him and jumping from side to side.

Ivan gently placed his bag down, and tottered on the balls of his feet. "You did not," he bartered. "You think you did, because the teacher dragged me away first." Ivan huffed. "I wish you the best of luck."

"I don't need luck!" Alfred smirked, jumping forward and throwing the first punch at his boyfriend. "I'm gonna kick your sexy ass."

"S-sexy?!-" Ivan went to question Alfred's compliment, but the moment of confusion allowed Alfred's hit to connect, and knuckles barreled into Ivan's chest. "Oh, goodness!"

"Gotcha!" Alfred smirked, bounding back and hopping around on his feet. "Take that!"

"I certainly did take it," Ivan mused softly, putting a hand to the sore spot on his chest. "You caught me off-guard."

Alfred managed to land a few hits, although Ivan didn't seem to flinch at any of them. He simply sucked up the damage, surely going to repel it back at him when the time came. As Alfred went to give his sixth punch, Ivan moved quicker than a flash, grabbing his fist and twisting it around. A knee went up into Alfred's gut, and Ivan's free hand swung forward, delivering a blow directly to Alfred's temple.

Alfred was knocked down, and Ivan allowed himself a smirk. "Yes, you have won, haven't you?" he smiled, but when Alfred did not stir or snap back a witty remark, he tilted his head. "You're down for the count, are you?" He fretted, and his anxiety became clear in his voice. "Alfred? What are you doing? Stop playing." He scolded quietly, and put his large hands to Alfred's back, shaking it gently. "Alfred?"

He leant down, trying not to panic as he listened for breathing. It was a little ragged, but Alfred was still taking in and releasing breath, and Ivan was thankful for that. He was incredibly frightened, unsure what to do from here. "Help!" he called out, voice cracking in the middle of his word. "Please, help!"

When no-one came, he scooped his boyfriend into his arms, and rushed back towards the school building. Guilt was overwhelming him, really. He had indeed broken limbs and whatnot before in their friendly brawling, but never had he knocked Alfred out. "Help!" he echoed, attracting the attention of all students as he rushed down the hall towards the nurse's office. Once he reached there, the nurse called an ambulance, and wished Ivan the best.

Line

Alfred awoke, and his head was pounding. Everything smelled sterile and so damn medicinal that it almost hurt. Well, the side of his head actually hurt, and everything felt hazy. Everything was bleary, and he had to blink heavily to try and see clearly. Even then, he needed his glasses, and he looked around. The room was that of a hospital, with blank white walls and a small window to his side. He was in a hospital gown and not his comfortable clothes, and frowned. He reached up slowly, and pet the bandage that crowned his forehead.

His glasses had been put aside, and he clumsily picked them up. He felt weak, and he noted that there was an IV drip in one of his arms. Alfred placed his glasses neatly back onto his face, and glanced around properly. An oxygen mask was uncomfortable on his face, and he slowly moved a hand to it to take it off.

"Alfred!" a familiar voice gasped, and the door swung open. Alfred frowned, having expected Ivan. Instead, his petulant older brother had decided to show. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing; he had just been expecting Ivan, seeing as, if he could remember correctly, he had been the one to fight him. "Alfred, you're awake!"

Arthur let out a weak sigh and scurried to Alfred's bedside, sitting down in the chair that had been there previously. It looked positioned to sit beside the hospital bed, and clearly wasn't a part of the original room décor. It had been dragged up here, probably from the canteen or in from the waiting room. "Alfred, thank goodness. How are you feeling? Are you alright?"

"Yeah.." he mumbled absently, looking down as Arthur took his hand and squeezed it worriedly. "I'm okay. Where's Ivan?"

"Oh," Arthur tensed, and bit his lip. He glanced down, hating to be the bearer of bad news. "Alfred, he's long gone. I asked the school nurse, and she said that he wouldn't get on the ambulance with you. I called him, and he said he doesn't want to associate with you anymore."

"What?" Alfred asked, although he had heard Arthur perfectly. "What was that last part?"

"He's scared out of his wits, lad," Arthur explained softly, looking up to the pitiful boy. "You've been comatose for three days. He thought he'd killed you."

"Call him, n' tell him I'm back from the dead," Alfred mumbled wearily, yawning and slumping up to a sitting position. "I wanna punch his ass for ditching me."

"Please," Arthur mumbled, laying Alfred back down. "Ivan's asked that you don't call him anymore. Something about guilt and sickness."

"But I love him," Alfred said quietly, feeling a little betrayed. "Arthur?"

"He told me to tell you that if you said you loved him, he knows, but he doesn't want to hurt the people he loves so badly," Arthur recited. "So he's.. Well, he said he'll be keeping his distance."

"So he's breaking up with me," Alfred muttered dryly, resting his sore head back against the pillow. It seemed as if he couldn't escape the crashing tide of melancholy that threatened to drown him.

"Honestly, Alfred, you wake up after three days of your twin and I fretting over you and all you can speak about is him," Arthur frowned. "You've been out cold for a few days, and the doctors are saying something about a concussion."

"I'll deal with that later, I just have to talk to Ivan-"

"Alfred, deal with yourself first!"

"No!"

As Arthur was able to move freely and with full strength, and Alfred was not, Arthur won the argument by prodding Alfred's cheek and scolding him softly. Alfred later got the entire story. Ivan was leaving him in fear of hurting him severely again, leaving him in his time of need. He was changing schools, even. Alfred was left to contemplate these lonely and haggard thoughts by himself, having shooed Arthur from the room. It was a little tragic, yet a little funny, how one punch can do so much to cause rifts between two perfectly normal people.

* * *

**these poor guys ;m;**

**ivan didnt mean to hurt him like that! and alfred didn't notice things getting out of hand :(**


End file.
